the star of my existence, I could not but dread
the actual meeting. There is something
essentially inapt in a fat lover.

"One evening about dusk, some three months
after our first meeting, as I was walking, or
rather waddling in the neighbourhood of Nasturtium
Villas, a carriage dashed past me, a face
looked out, a beaming, brilliant face! Sir, it lit
up the whole rank of villas, like—like—"

"Gas?" I suggested.

"Not at all," said Bob, with sudden indignation.
"She was gone; but my eyes, straining, like
twin detectives, in pursuit of the thief that had
robbed my heart's till (and used it very roughly
in doing so), observed something fall from the
carriage window. I hurried up. A bouquet!
More, sir, more! Among these blessed stalks
nestled a scrap of paper, torn off a mantua-
maker's bill. Oil the blank side had been
written, with haste and a pencil, 'To-morrow.
Later.' I dined that evening at the Starve-and-
Tatter Club, upon whose elder and steadier
members my feverish gaiety seemed to make a
considerable impression.

"I was on the ground on the morrow at the
appointed time. It was darkish. I wore my
widest paletot, and walked with a carefully-
studied lightness, more in keeping with my
mind than body.

"Few carriages passed Nasturtium Villas.
The excellent inhabitants did not evince symptoms
of being in the full tide of London fashion.
The consequence was that when the sound of
approaching wheels was heard, my heart throbbed
almost to bursting. Again the carriage, again
the face. Again that footman's calves, two
white meteors, receded into the darkness. Again
a bouquet and a note! I hastened with my
prize to the nearest lamp. There, to my utter
astonishment, I read as follows:

"'Why this extraordinary persecution? If it
be your fancy to haunt our quiet precincts, at
least avoid Number Three, Laburnum Cottages,
third turning to the left, at twenty minutes past
eight, on Thursday. C. de C." To-morrow,
George, is 'Thursday.' I shall avail myself of this
gracious prohibition. Will you accompany me?"

I pressed my friend's hand, not without
emotion. Bob thanked me with a melancholy smile,
for his eye had lit upon the paletot.

"In that hideous garb," he said, bitterly,
"and under the shadow of night, I may,
perchance, venture upon expressions which, spoken
under ordinary circumstances, would reduce me
to the rank of a Jack Pudding! But, George,
should she invite me to approach nearer, so
that the outlines of—what I dare no longer
designate—my figure might become visible, sir, I
could not do it. Revolt her taste at the very
outset? Crush the tender buds of her young
affection beneath this shapeless mound of flesh?
Let me win her first, then, by those discreet
degrees by which a certain cat is reported
(whether correctly or otherwise) to have
devoured the candle, reveal myself to her in all my
fearful rotundity. It is here, my friend, that
you can help me. There is much," I am told, in
the magic of voice. Mine is low and sweet. I
will do the speaking, you the acting. Excuse
me," continued Bob, interrupting me as I was
about to speak, "I have reconnoitred the
premises. The object of my fair warner-off is to
hold converse with me through the window
which looks upon a little lawn, which is flanked
by a shrubbery, which is open to the road,
which is innocent of travellers nine-tenths of the
day. Certain laburnums approach the house so
closely as to be on speaking terms. I propose
to avail myself of their friendly cover, while
you, standing out just far enough to allow your
noble form to be distinctly visible, will accompany
my observations with appropriate action.
How say you, George?"

"The system at present in vogue for the
treatment of lunatics," I replied, slowly,
"involves, I conceive, as complete an acquiescence
in the ruling fancy as circumstances will allow.
For this one evening, Robert, I am yours. Oh, my
Bob, will I second, for this once, your intended
assault upon the common sense, not to say peace
of mind, of a lovely and confiding woman. What
a goose she must be!"

Eight o'clock that evening saw us strolling
leisurely past Laburnum Cottages. A small
carriage-sweep led up to each, and the gates, in
the instance of number three, standing open,
there would, we saw, be no difficulty in slipping
unobserved into the little shrubbery which, as
Bob had said, reached, at one point, within a
few paces of the house.

It was not without a slight blush, such as
might become the cheek of a youthful burglar
cracking, to speak technically, his maiden crib,
that, following the intrepid Bob, I stole into
the laburnum covert. It was growing dark.
Bob's watch indicated the appointed time, when
the sound of a window, gently opened, reached
our ears.

"A — he—em!" remarked a soft voice.

"Thank you, I am aware of it," murmured
Bob. "I see you distinctly, sweet. Ehe—e — em!
(A little to the front, George, my boy.)"

I stepped out just clear of the trees, Bobby,
with his head in the fork of a large laburnum,
close in my rear.

"Come no nearer," said the voice from the
window.

"I obey in all things," replied Bob, with
alacrity, while I made a graceful bow.

"I see your figure quite well."

"Thank Heaven you don't!" said Bob, in a
fervent whisper.

"But I have very solid reasons for the caution
I exhibit."

"Mine are still more solid," muttered Bob.

"And I must beg you not to misinterpret my
present line of conduct. I cannot, sir, be
insensible to the persevering nature of your pursuit
of me. I have seen you many times, when you
were not aware of it——"

"The deuce she has!" said Bob, rather
uneasily.

"And, dark as it was, have never failed to
recognise that countenance which, I, I must